Panic
by Teh Kat in the Hat
Summary: Panic really can be beneficial sometimes.


_Neither the characters, nor the world, nor pretty much anything else belongs to me. That pleasure goes to the Disney company._

_This story takes place when Cornelius and __Franny__ are in their early twenties. They've been a couple for a fair few years (if you want to see my suggestion of how they get together, see _Failure_, written by yours truly)._

Distinctly amphibious crooning wafted down the stairs to the lab. Cornelius, who had just woken after four hours of sleep –he'd been up late into the night perfecting a robotic stage for Franny's frogs- paused at the foot of the stairs and glanced towards the stairs. Raising an eyebrow, he sought out Lucille in the kitchen, where she was loading a breakfast-making machine of his with bread.  
"Good morning, mom!" he said cheerily, peeking over her shoulder to make sure nothing came loose. When the bread was sucked successfully into the contraption, Cornelius asked, "Is Franny here?"  
"Why, yes, she came over an hour ago. Said she need to practice with her frogs before the big show," Lucille said, pushing various buttons on the coffee machine hooked up to her son's invention, "I'm making breakfast for her right now. She told me she was up all night worrying about the concert."

Franny's frogs were going to be performing at Joe and Billie's wedding, and she was extremely agitated. After all, it wasn't often that one was invited to perform at one's boyfriend's uncle's wedding with one's singing frog band.  
Toast dropped onto the plate in Lucille's hand, complete with a glob of butter and just a little sugar, just the way Franny liked it (though Cornelius had often wondered if she needed any more sugar).

"Would you be a dear and take this to Franny, Cornelius?" Lucille held the plate towards him.  
He blushed and ran his fingers through his hair. "But-… I'm still in my pajamas…"  
She waved him on, the toast sliding all over the plate. "Go on, she won't care."  
Taking a deep breath, he took the plate from her waving hands and walked nervously towards the laboratory stairs.

As he climbed the chilly stairs, he smiled at the snatches of Franny's voice drifted down to him.  
"Frankie, really-… now, all together here… Oh, for goodness sakes, _would you leave _that fly alone?!..."  
Reaching the last step, Cornelius paused and watched her for a moment. The frogs were all gathered before her on the counter, every one of them distracted by a little buzzing incest circling above them. Franny was glaring at them, fists on her slender hips. Sighing, she brandished the baton she clutched in one hand.  
"Honestly, do I not feed you well enough or something?!" she cried. She was obviously frazzled; her hair was sticking out every which way, her voice was strained, and her normally-smooth dress was wrinkled. In fact, she looked just like Cornelius felt.

"I hear you had a rough night," he ventured, padding towards her.  
Franny started violently and spun round to face him. "Oh! Cornelius! Good morning! I didn't hear you come up."  
"Mom cooked you a bite of breakfast," he offered, holding it out to her. Taking it gingerly, she thanked him and put it on the counter. As she munched on the toast he walked towards the wall and plucked his lab coat off its hanger. Pulling it on, he self-consciously shoved his hands in his pockets, only to blush fiercely. He'd been keeping the little box in his right coat pocket for almost two weeks now, but still hadn't found the courage to ask her his question.

Luckily she was so stressed she didn't notice his cheeks turn bright red. "I hope you don't mind me using your laboratory without asking you," she murmured, twisting her pinky finger absently.  
"Oh! Oh, no, I don't mind. Not at all," Cornelius stammered, jerking his hands from his pockets and folding them behind his back. Striding up to her side, he watched the frogs hop back and forth on the counter.  
"How's it going?" he asked, leaning over to put his arm around her waist. Dusting all the crumbs off of her fingers, she pressed closer to him and sighed, resting her cheek against his shoulder. "I should have taught them classical music. Jazz musicians are far too excitable."

Cornelius moved his hand up to her shoulder. "I'm sure they'll do fine." When she didn't seem comforted, he smirked and added, "If anything goes wrong, it'll be my platform. Don't worry." He gave her a squeeze and kissed her temple.  
"Oh, don't be silly. Your platform'll work fine. It'll just be if Frankie _behaves_!" She directed the last word towards the frog in question, pointing her baton at him and glaring.

Cornelius looked down at her, and his heat sped up. He was so lucky to know her, so lucky to be hers. He couldn't, or didn't want to, imagine life without her. His hand made its way absently into his pocket and fingered the little ring box. But surely this wasn't the right time to ask her; he suspected it was best not to ask someone to marry you when that person seems ready to chuck something or someone out a window.  
Suddenly he realized his hand was no longer around Franny's waist. Blinking to bring himself back to reality, he glanced around a bit before realizing she was silently putting her not-so-silent frogs into their custom-built houses.

When the last one had been locked up –they were notorious for breaking out in search of flies- Franny turned back towards him and smiled weakly.  
"Well, I'm quitting for now. They're being impossible," she sighed, throwing a glance towards them before starting to move past him. She was almost to the stairs when Cornelius called out, "Franny! Wait!"  
"What?" She jumped and spun around, apparently expecting to have to fetch the fire extinguisher.

Cornelius blushed. Now that he had her attention, he wasn't sure how to say what he needed to.  
"Er…" he began nervously, walking towards her with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets, "I-… need to talk to you."  
Franny's face fell sadly. "Was it really that bad?" she asked tremulously.  
"What?"  
"My band."  
"Oh! Oh, no, no no no, your band's great. No, I-… er…"  
Relieved he didn't think her band was terrible, she relaxed a little and waited quietly for him to reach her.  
"What is it?" she asked when he stopped rather suddenly in front of her, staring at his bare feet.  
"I… well, you see, for a long time…" He was trying (and failing) to remember the elaborate lead-up to the proposal he'd spent hours thinking up, "I've… you know."  
"Cornelius, what's wrong?" Franny leaned forward a little to get a better look at his expression.  
"I-… I-… oh Franny," he finally managed to say, falling to his knees unceremoniously.

As she stared at him curiously he tried to pull the box from his pocket, but it somehow managed to get itself caught on everything possible. Finally fishing it out with both hands, he fumbled it open. Holding it with one hand, he took her hand with his free one and said all in a rush, "I love you. Would you marry me?" Not exactly the romantic proclamation he'd planned, but it was hard to be romantic wearing pajamas and a lab coat anyhow.  
She gaped at him, then at the little sparkling ring in the box, and then back at him.  
"I-… why-…" she stammered, pressing a hand to her chest, "I-…"

Cornelius gulped. It had _certainly_ not been the right time. Now she was never going to talk to him again, and not only would he lose her, but his entire future-  
"_Yes_!" she screeched suddenly, flinging herself at him. He was rising as she was falling, so they collided halfway. Cornelius had been going faster, though, so she ended up with her feet off the ground and her arms wrapped around his neck.  
"Really? Oh Franny, that's _wonderful_!" Cornelius cried, squeezing her tightly and spinning her around.

Lucille smirked to herself and tip-toed back down the stairs. She'd come up to fetch the plate, but she supposed she could leave it for a few minutes more.


End file.
